Stiles stood in front of their bedroom door, one hand pressed flat against the wood, pleading with the woman on the other side to let him in. "Cora... please let me in. There is no need for both of us to be suffering alone; let me help you, please."
After a miscarriage of our characters' child, my character has been locked up in their room for days, not eating. What does your character do?
She could scent him, hear his heartbeats⌠there was no need for him to talk for her to know he was there and had been there for a long time now. Yet, she fails to move from the same spot she has been sitting on since almost a weak. She isnât hungry, nor tired, she ran out of tears practically the day they came back from the hospital.
Cora isnât doing anything more than stare at a blank point on their bedroom wall. She recognizes her behavior, tough. Itâs been such a long time since she acted like this but the pain she feels is the same, if not worse.
The last time she felt like this was when she lost everyone in the fire. And even with that, this time itâs justââ Â she doesnât only feel like she wonât recover from this, she knows she wonât. She didnât just see people dying, or scent them as a mere observer, this time she felt life dying inside her. Something she thought was impossible.
Cora wants to lock all her emotions back, but that would mean leaving him behind, too, and after all theyâve been through together, the she-wolf isnât sure about her capability to do it. The pain in his voice is as bad at the one sheâs feeling, she knows that much, and itâs terribly selfish of her to want to be left alone when maybe he needs her. Heâs always been the one who needed comfort in all its ways, and she was denying it the moment he probably needed it the most.
After taking several breathes, the young Hale girl walks to the door and places her hand gently on the cold doorknob. She closes her eyes, the scent of the male at the other side is strong and it feels like home, like safety, but it also reminds her that she killed their child. That it was her body the one that failed at keeping his child safe. A sudden rush of guilt travels throughout her tiny body, and she jerks her hand off the doorknob. She isnât ready to see him yet, to face the pain in his eyes, the sadness that emanates from him; sheâs not ready for confrontation. So she backs away from the door and gets back to her comfort zone.
Maybe he should just leave, heâs clearly wasting his time with her.
